Vindictive #4

14. turbo shot

I'm shocked into silence. Any other pleading words and apologies that could have fallen past my lips moved backwards, back down my throat. Choking me. I don't make a sound. I don't breathe to heavy, I don't move. I wait. There's a tension in the air, so thick you'd need a saw to cut through it. Every muscle in my body locked when I heard the gunshot, when I smelled the gunpowder.

Gary stands up, tucking the gun into the back of his pants. He stares down at me in disgust and annoyance.

"What's rule number six?"

My head bows and I let out a little breath. Maybe I hadn't fucked everything up after all. Another second passes before I speak, my voice low and cautious. "Always...have a contingency plan."

"Always have a contingency plan," Gary repeats, pulling out his cell phone. "Get up."

My body feels heavy, but I ignore its protest and slowly rise to my feet. I'm still shaking. Like a fucking pussy. I grit my teeth and take in a few deep breaths to calm myself down. My eyes go to Jonah. I shake my head. When I was eighteen, I'd already ran from home with my shitty ex-boyfriend. Without a word to my father, without a trace to be followed. When I was eighteen, my father was already dead and I had already taken on the weight of his death being my fault. When I was eighteen, I had met David and I'd been so infatuated with him that I—

I sigh again and crouch down, my fingers going to his eyes. I lower his eyelids.

It's not so crazy that someone his age could get mixed up in shit like this.

This is what happens. Kids get involved with the wrong people trying to make a come up, and they rarely get there. They die before anything worth while comes their way. They die if they don't know what they're doing.

Gary's in the phone, his entire conversation in Spanish. I understand all of what he's saying. Meet us off the closest route. Bring a shovel, and supplies. There's two. Milan will be with you, I have other business to handle.

When he hangs up, he turns to me. "Get their trunk open."

I move quickly , my feet carrying me across the floor to their SUV in seconds. I try the door. Locked. Huffing in frustration, I jog back to the man and gsearch his body for his keys. During the search, I find his wallet. I flip it open and look at his ID. Melvin Stewart. I push the ID back in, but stop when I see the picture tucked into the clear pocket. It's a little girl who looks a lot like him.

"Let's go, Milan."

Nodding, I quickly tuck the wallet into my pocket without him noticing and grab the keys. I run back to the car, unlock the doors, and lean it to pop the trunk. It clicks open.

"Help me," Gary orders, already tucking his arms through Melvin's and lifting his upper half off the ground. I go and grab him by his legs and lift, but the fucker's so heavy he slips from my grasp. "Come the fuck on, Milan."

I huff and try again, gritting my teeth against the weight. We carry him slowly, around the car and hoist him up into the trunk. Once he's in Gary shoves him to make room.

"The boy next."

We do the same with Jonah, lifting his body and carrying him to the trunk of the car. It's a tight fit, but we make it work. When they're in, Gary slams it shut and starts walking back to his car.

"Follow me with their car."

"What about the blood?" I glance at the blood on the ground.

Gary doesn't respond and climbs into his car, bringing it to life and then peeling out the lot.

Rolling my eyes, I climb in, push the keys into the ignition and start the car up. Following in Gary's direction, I let out a small sigh and try not to focus on the fact that there are two corpses laying in the trunk of the vehicle I'm driving. We drive for about fifteen minutes, with me following every single fucking road rule there is to deter any risk of getting pulled over.